Death and the John Doe
by KikumaruLover
Summary: A oneshot about traveling over to the Other World after death. First fic in awhile, please be nice!


**A/N;; It's been a really looong time since I last posted a story, and I'm really sorry about it! But this idea came into my head not too long ago and I just HAD to post it up so... here ya go!**

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The man lay on the bed, still and unmoving.

To the eyes of any pathetic mortal, they'd think that he was sleeping peacefully, taking a nap, doing forty winks?

However, to Death, it was apparent that this man was dead.

Death stood at the foot of the bed, watching as the Spirit of the man stared at his body lying lifelessly on the bed, and then looked at his own now semi-transparent figure. The man looked like he was having trouble comprehending what was going on, and so Death decided to step in and clear everything up.

"You've died."

The man's head shot up, and he noticed Death for the very first time. Death was still standing at the foot of the bed, and he looked everything like the typical Grim Reaper* would look like.

(*- However, Death and the Grim Reaper are two totally different people. Please don't confuse them. You see, Death is the ruler of the whole region of the peaceful undead, whereby the people go rather willingly with no qualms about leaving earth. The Grim Reaper however, is the opposite. He handles the Spirits of the unhappy, whereby they'd rather kick and fight and not leave earth. This is why he's the one with the scary looking stick with the sharp pointy end.)

He scratched his head and pointed to his body, still not comprehending what was going on. Death sighed, and then made a simple motion with his fingers, and suddenly both the man and Death were zooming through the air.

"Woah!"

There seemed to be a transparent plate beneath them now, for the man had lost his balance and fallen hard onto his behind. He stood up and rubbed his sore dignity, and then glanced around him.

They looked to be traveling through some sort of highway, though they were the only ones in it.

The man continued studying his surroundings. Unbeknownst to him, Death was doing some quiet studying of his own. This man before him, John Doe, was a rather slow man indeed. He still had yet to realise that he was in the presence of the great God Of The Undead Realm In Which The Peaceful Go To. AKA, Death.

Not many people were lucky enough to be in his presence. After all, how many people do you know of who has made peace with Death?

Exactly.

Now, the man standing before Death (figuratively) was a rather ordinary man. He had made not much contribution to the world, lead a rather happy childhood, was employed in a rather average job, married into an average family with an average income.

A John Doe in not only his name, but in every sense of the word.

However, as contradicting as it would seem, this man held something special about him. In everywhere that he went, he was able to spread some peace to his surroundings, and as soon as he left, that feeling of peacefulness was immediately lifted, followed by a round of swear words, a couple of punches here and there, and some kicks for good measure.

When he spoke, this man was able to quiet a crowd, calm them, soothe them. And yet at the same time, get them so worked up about whatever he was talking about that they would turn their heads when he was done speaking and say, "Darn, I feel like killing myself right now!*"

(*- That is, if the man had asked them to do so. However, this is a clean story with no violence. Thus, no killing shall be involved.)

He had a certain air to him, and that made him both blend in and stand out. Death was almost certain that he was God's incarnate.

Alas, every man has his bad side, and this man's bad side was rather simple, yet stupidly silly.

He was excruciatingly boring and useless when it came to one-on-one conversation.

Do you know someone, who can speak and speak for hours and hours without even once stopping for a sip of water, or at the very least, a gulp of air? (Yes, we all know that you're thinking about a certain teacher of sorts.)

Well, meet John Doe, the Insomniacs' Dream.

Magic happens everytime he speaks to a room positively filled with people, and then the magic stops the moment he talks to his next door neighbour about the weather.

Perhaps this is why his wife murdered him.

Death had watched the proceedings very carefully for the past month. The wife's indiscreet way of somehow adding a tiny pinch of rat poison into the food she brought for him while he lay in bed*, slowly wasting away due to cancer was extremely pleasing to his eye.

(*- When the police found out, the wife just said that it was her way of making her husband's suffering less prolonged. She said this in the tone of voice used when talking about something mundane, such as breathing.)

However, to be murdered so by your very own wife. That's quite depressing isn't it?

Death turned and snuck a glimpse of John, who was, at that very moment, falling asleep on the floor of the transparent pane that was carrying them to the Other World. His head was nodding off the edge of the pane, threatening to fall off at any given moment.

Thankfully, they reached the Other World without much incident.

Death prodded John gingerly, using his feet and pointed in the general direction of which John was to walk. John looked up groggily, and then rubbed his eyes. He stood up slowly, and Death then lead the way to the Other World.

John walked behind Death, carefully watching where he stepped. Death just barged on ahead, knowing the road beneath his feet like the back of his hand. They walked a long while before finally stopping in front of a door.

"This is where you go." said Death, in his usual formal tone.

"This is it?" inquired John, blinking his eyes and staring at the door. It was just an ordinary door, wooden, no carvings, no nothing, and then he noticed that the doorknob was pure gold. Polished to shine beautifully.

"Why is there a door here? I didn't exactly err.. Well.." John blushed a little, flustered because he wasn't exactly very good at conversations like these after all, "I didn't exactly expect to see a door to lead to the other world. Most people claim to see a white light!"

Death sighed, "Please, it is the Other World, not the other world, and the door is of great significance. Without it, you would never know how you fared in your life."

John gave Death a questioning look.

Death sighed again, and then said, "When you enter a room, what do you use?"

John blinked. "A door?"

"Correct. Now, what do you use when you exit a room?" asked Death patiently.

"A door?"

"Good, now if you use a door to enter a room, and a door to exit a room, isn't it fitting to exit the World of the Living and enter the Other World using a door?"

Realisation dawned onto John's face, and he smiled and nodded excitedly. "I get it! But... I didn't think that the door would be so... plain."

Death made a coughing sound.

"Actually, the doors are designed specifically according to the person's life. If, for example, you are a priest and you lead an extremely simple, holy life, your door would come made of the finest wood and brass and gold of all kinds.

If, however, you lead a rotten life full of deceit and cruelty, your door would come out more like a piece of rotten wood on hinges. Not very pretty is it?

However, you lead a very simple life, neither good nor bad. Neither high nor low. The reason as to why you have such a nice doorknob though, is simple. You had a gift, and you utilised it wisely. As cliched as it sounds, you used it for something that wasn't evil, and that made you pure.

Unfortunately, you watched porn, so of course we can't exactly give you something too extravagant. So here you are."

John stared blankly at the door, and then lifted his hand to touch the doorknob. It felt cold in his hand, yet he could feel the warmth of... Something on the other side. John twisted the knob a little, and then stopped.

"Will I get to see my wife ever again?"

Death nodded his head, "But you will probably not like what you see."

John smiled somewhat evilly.

"It's fine, after all, I was looking forward to seeing her suffer for killing me."

And then John opened the door and stepped into Hell.

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**Alright, so there ya have it! What you do think? Is it any good? I didn't really expect it to come out like that, but then again I didn't plan at all so... -dies-**

**Oh, and for those of you who read my fanfic, Cousins of Chaos, it'll be a loong time before a new chapter gets posted up. Me and Melanie are in kinda an important part of our lives right now and we need some space from the pressure of coming up with new stuff. Sides, our mamas are being totally lafuzalbdvckjdabcf. D Oh well~**

**PLEASE REVIEW!  
**


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